


The Shield & The Sword

by lostchildofthenewworld



Series: Continuum [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aerys Is His Own Warning, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Elia Martell Deserves Better, Elia Martell Lives, Elia Martell-centric, F/M, House Martell, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Non-Graphic Smut, POV Elia Martell, Past Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The rating just went up because it was mentioned so yeah, no beta we die like Rhaegar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28437135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostchildofthenewworld/pseuds/lostchildofthenewworld
Summary: You would need to only turn the page in book to realize that the princess and the knight go through turmoil before it gets better.
Relationships: Elia Martell & Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Elia Martell
Series: Continuum [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029861
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59
Collections: Southern Renaissance (Dorne Renaissance)





	The Shield & The Sword

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm, sorry for the lack of smut?

The day had been busy, filled with cheers and false smiles and false words.

Her first wedding she had been wrecked with nerves, her hands had trembled before Doran had grabbed and kissed them before the doors were opened and he walked her down the aisle where Targaryen banners hung.

That was then and this is now.

Her hands did not tremble, her steps did not falter when Doran once again walked her down the aisle, her head had been held high as felt Doran give her hand away to Jaime’s. 

While the day had been busy, the words she spoke to Jaime were not false and neither were the smiles she gave him. If she did nothing else, she would lie to the world, but she found no need to lie to Jaime, for they were both liars of the worst kind if people looked close enough. But that was the beauty of their friendship because they guarded each other's secrets.

Often where Elia could be found, Jaime was there even if she were in the nursery with her children. More often than not Tyrion was there also, as Rhaenys found him fascinating with all the tales he had of dragons and such. The irony was not lost on her that while her daughter missed Viserys, she now had another Targaryen uncle that was besotted with her just as the first.

The picture that they had agreed to paint when he came to Dorne for her hand was a beautiful thing to see now. Elia had been seated when Lord Tywin had asked for her hand in a dance and she stood and made herself look eager as she simpered, “of course Father” before being led away. She spoke just loud enough for other westerlander ladies to hear and she knows that little comment, will travel far and wide by the morning. 

The people looking would think that her and Jaime walked out of a fairytale book, of princesses and knights and of love and peace. That was not the truth but just like she told Jaime, the truth is what they make of it and so this was her truth now.

The royal monarchs did not show, and Elia and Jaime had both been glad at that, though Rhaegar must have appeased her good father by having his mother come in his stead. Queen Rhaella had been kind and sweet as she often was, but even Elia could see the fainted scars that would forever remain on her body just as her haunted eyes.

As she sits watching people dance and smile with a serene look on her face, her thoughts are anything but as she took a small glance at Queen Rhaella who was dancing with Ser Tygett. She wonders how it feels to know that her son did not regard her high enough to send back one Kingsguard for her when she had been sent to Dragonstone when Rhaegar left with the royal forces.

That for all of her suffering, all the hope that she had for Rhaegar to finally unburden her of her brother-husband, he had failed to do so, leaving her unprotected with just the household guard of Dragonstone. Elia was not surprised when she realized where the three other Kingsguard had been after the war.

It is one of her most constant thoughts on how Rhaella reconciles herself to Rhaegar and his actions because she knows that she has not. It almost made her want to laugh because Rhaegar had thought he knew her, thought he knew of her pain and hurt at his abandonment, but he did not know her as well as he thought.

Did not know her to realize that her silence after Harrenhal had been but just the cusp of her righteous anger. That for all Rhaegar knew about his books, he did not understand women, not full-grown women who went through so much for House Targaryen only to be left with scars and ill-gotten gains.

As the feast gets rowdier and rowdier, Elia takes note and squeezes Jaime’s arms, his eyes catching hers at her subtle nod towards the open doors, where the light of the massive hall filtered out.

Elia had already suffered through one bedding ceremony and she would not suffer through another one, it was barbaric the way men heaved and clawed at women and their clothing. As women ripped apart a man’s attire trying to touch onto his flesh, especially if the man was good looking.

She had no doubt that there were plenty of women who would want to rip Jaime’s attire off, and she would not give them the opportunity as she removed herself from the table and crept away into the shadows. If she thought about it, she could still recall the deft hands that had touched her skin when she had married Rhaegar, the hands that Oberyn had quickly knocked away, but she had felt them, nonetheless - it still made her stomach twist. 

Walking back quickly to her new chambers, she made quick work of her gown, she stood bare as she pulled the pins out of hair.

“Finally,” she murmured as she massaged her fingers through her curls. 

With no servants to attend her, she made quick work of her bath that sat in front of the fire, happy to know the water was not tepid, she leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing her mask to fall away.

Ever since she arrived at Casterly Rock she had been wearing her mask, it had so many different variations and she had not realized how _tiring_ that it was. Maybe it was because that while she had been in King’s Landing, everyone had worn masks, it would be dangerous not to. But here at Casterly Rock that was not the case and it startled her how taxed and waned her body felt, how out of place the soreness on her face felt to the touch of her wet nimble fingers.

She stifled a yawn. “How very strange indeed,” as she picked up the soap and began cleaning herself.

It did not take her long to finish up and so she sat waiting, with a hairbrush in her hand as she brushed out her curls, making them shine like obsidian stones.

She did not have to wait long either for Jaime to arrive, with his clothes fully intact which led her to believe he was able to leave the feast unscathed.

The room is silent outside of the wood crackling in the hearth but her and Jaime are quite used to silence and so it is no bother to them. The gown she wears is Dornish in its design, light and airy with a soft yellow dye as its color.

Elia listened as Jaime threw more logs into the fire, allowing for more light to sift through the room, their shadows becoming larger against the Lannister red walls. A small smile twitches on her face, for her new husband knows that she likes to heat, likes the warmth of a good fire to settle over her bones that keeps her body from aching.

“Thank you,” she called out as she stands on her feet and makes her way towards him.

It is odd because when she bedded Rhaegar they had not been friends, mere strangers even and yet she feels more nervousness now than she did then at this moment in time.

“I am sorry,” she whispered out as she helped him undress.

Only when his arms are free from his doublet does he look at her and speak, “for what?” He seemed genuinely confused.

Elia takes a step back and places his doublet neatly on the chaise before turning back to him, “this is not the kind of wedding I imagined you having. Nor am I the bride.” Which was true, considering the future brides she had thought of for him were all maidens with good prospects.

While she was no maiden, and she had good prospects, she comes with two children, one just babe. _Rhaenys and Aegon Waters_ , the very fact makes her heart twist in disdain once more for Rhaegar and his actions.

“There are a lot of things I did not imagine that would happen, that happened. This is no different,” Jaime spoke with indifference which did not deter her nor her hands from helping him finish undressing.

He was right, of course but Elia did not need to speak that out loud for him to know it. Instead, they walked with one another towards the bed, ready to perform their marital duties. They were both tired, Jaime more-so as he had been spending more time with his lord father, learning what he should have been learning before he joined the Kingsguard on an idealistic dream.

There is not much romance between them, romance was not what they were seeking when they agreed to one another. But he presses his lips onto hers anyway and makes it feel sweet like the honeyed wine that is famous in the west.

It is not much, but it is something.

For that, she is thankful. 

* * *

Her dreams disappear as easily as they had come to her as she feels movement within the bed with soft groans and whimpers of pain accompanying it. She is startled when she opened her eyes and finds Jaime twitching in his sleep, his face frowned, lines across his typically smooth face.

She climbed out of the bed not minding her nudity as she throws more logs into the fire before grabbing the small face bowl and brought it over towards the bed and set it down. Dipping the cotton towel into the water, hissing at the coldness at the water before she twisted it to let the excess water out.

Her knees sit on top of the sheets as she begins to wipe away at Jaime's face, worried what would happen should she wake him and pull him from his own dreams – his nightmares – because he looked a fright even asleep.

“Jaime?” she called out softly, moving the towel down and wiping at his chest in distress. When his skin seemed to cool from the cloth, she threw it back towards the side table without a glance as she pushed herself closer to him, her skin pressed against his as her arms wrapped around him, trying to offer the comfort he had given her back in the Water Gardens.

His name fell easy from her lips as she beckoned him to wake on his own, like a siren calling out to a lost ship to come towards her through the fog of the night.

It takes a while before she hears him wake with a start and he sucked in a breath and sat up, his chest heaving as he looked around the room wildly, his green eyes taking in his surroundings, but his eyes are still wide. He stares at her, with tears in the corner of his eyes and she reached forward to wipe them away before they can fall.

“I still hear them. I still hear them,” he gasped out as fell back onto the bed in a heap, as though his energy had been drained right out him.

She licked her lips before speaking, “hear who?” she wondered out loud. Elia has had her own share of nightmares but the are usually silent like how often the Red Keep was during her time there as a hostage.

“Aerys, Rhaella. Take your pick,” Jaime’s eyes looked so dull and haunted and she turns back and grabs the cup of wine she had brought when they finished coupling just hours before.

Her right hand goes to the back of his hand and she brings him up so that he may drink carefully, which he does.

“I hear his laughter, no matter how hard I try to forget, I hear him still. I hear her cries. I tried to speak to her when she arrived, but I did not know what to say. I am a coward,” his hands were twisted in the sheets as he spoke.

“I am so tired Elia, so tired,” he murmured softly as though he was afraid of others hearing.

Elia scooted closer to him, his head burrowed against her chest, as her arms curl around his chest with a hand going to his blonde curls, her fingers massaging his scalp in comfort. Their bodies are pressed tightly against one another, but Elia does not mind the added warmth and she suspects Jaime does not seek to turn away her comfort.

“You rest now Jaime; I shall keep watch over you.”

As the minutes pass on she can slowly feel the tension be released from his body before times drags on and his body feels limp against her own but his hold on her body is still tight and firm, her body is still pressed against his in an embrace.

She hums under her breath, old songs that were sung to her as a child by her father when she had been scared herself. _Let this soothe his dreams_ she thought morosely.

No, they did not marry for romance, but _this_ is what they did marry one another for – comfort.

Elia suspects that their internal torture will last quite a while before their lives become sublime, but she finds that she does not mind waiting, for she has good company to keep.

**Author's Note:**

> There's so much that I want to write and the very fact that I have to work for a living is upsetting me and my home girls. Well, a few days early but Happy New Year's.


End file.
